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Sue Civil-Brown
The Life of Reilly
MILLS & BOON
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To Buster, who spent some time in my koi pond and didn’t
eat the fish. The fish thank you.
To African gray parrots everywhere. You talk, but
we don’t listen. Well, except for a handful of scientists…
And thanks to Discover magazine for teaching me
that African grays really do talk intelligently,
although not as rudely as a certain bird.
And thereby hangs the tale.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
“I TAKE IT YOU weren’t satisfied to be quantum consciousness dispersed through eleven dimensions?”
Lynn Reilly stood in the living room of her little bungalow, the tropical breeze of Treasure Island blowing through open windows and screened doors. The furnishings, though sparse, were wicker with brightly colored pillows. Curtains matching the pillow covers—which Lynn had made herself—tossed gently in the breeze.
It should have been an idyllic evening scene: tropical breeze perfumed by exotic flowers, the sound of the surf in the distance, the sun settling low in the sky and casting a golden glow everywhere it touched.
Should have been being the operative phrase.
Lynn had forgotten all that beauty because she was standing in the doorway of the room staring at her Aunt Delphine.
Delphine looked pretty darn good. As if she’d had a face lift. Nothing exaggerated, just enough to take a few years off. Her skin tone was great, too. Lynn would have given her right arm to achieve that particular satiny rosy look.
So Delphine looked great. The only problem was, she shouldn’t have been standing in Lynn’s living room.
Because Delphine had died five years ago of a stroke.
Delphine smiled. “You could at least say, ‘Hi, Aunt Delphine. It’s been a while.’”
Instead, Lynn said, unable to wrap her mind around what was happening, “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Pah!” Delphine replied, frowning. “Death is far overrated, dear! And by the way, you’re wrong about the number of dimensions.”
Lynn’s knees started to give way and she sagged onto the nearest chair. Was she really discussing quantum physics with her dead aunt? Shaking her head in shock, she asked, “Okay, so how many are there?”
“Sorry, dear,” Delphine said. “You’ll have to earn your Nobel Prize on that one.”
And that was Delphine, as enigmatic in the afterlife as she had been in life. Wasn’t she supposed to be playing harps with angels or something? How could God have let her escape from heaven to come to Treasure Island?
But then, given Delphine’s nature, the better question might have been: How could God have prevented her?
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Lynn said lamely.
“Probably true.” Delphine said. She was wearing her favorite green dress which was covered in huge red cabbage roses, and settled onto the other wicker chair. Well, not settled, exactly. She almost…floated. “But I thought I’d drop in anyway.”
“How soon can you drop out?” Lynn asked pointedly.
God, this was impossible. She loved Delphine. How could she not? The woman had raised her from the age of ten, when her parents had died in an accident. But she shouldn’t be here. Lynn was a scientist. Reality didn’t behave this way.
Did it?
“Lynn, honey. You and I need to talk.”
Uh oh, Lynn thought. Whenever Delphine said that, she was in for the Lecture.
“I can’t understand why in the world a young woman your age, with your training and credentials, would move to a tiny island to teach little kids. You should be at Stanford or MIT. There are hardly
